


the thing about lies

by fightusdetritus (vi_sobriquet)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Major Spoilers, a thousand apologies, crossposted with tumblr, first fic in this fandom, probably only fic in this fandom, s04e01 The Six Thatchers, what am I even doing here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 05:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9163765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vi_sobriquet/pseuds/fightusdetritus
Summary: just watched season 4, episode 1, "the six thatchers" -- need i honestly say more?he'd lied.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don't actually watch sherlock often enough to call myself a fan, but fanwork thoughts popped into my head after the premiere. tragic thoughts, of course, because my brain is just wired that way.
> 
> anyhoo, i'll say it explicitly: 
> 
> ***major spoilers for season 4, episode 1*  
> **
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> ***everything mine is capsfree, if that's at all a problem***

the thing about lies is that they cover a truth that cannot always be denied.

 

—

 

he’d lied.

 

a part of him, the part that demands the honest part of love, tells him that he doesn’t love her. the girl. she ~~is~~ ~~was~~ — _is, you damn_ _fool_ — pink lips and a clumsy smile that was always as wide open as the wind across the sky, blue as the day they met.

 

she ~~was~~ ~~is~~ was different and it was flattering and he’d felt as if that one thrilling night before being shipped out to afghanistan had given him a second performance, but if given the chance he’d trade all his reviving moments with her for just another willful second with **_her_** and so help him, **mary** was going to breathe.

 

—

 

there’ll be a solitary moment where he’ll lean against the ambulance, posed amidst flashing lights alternating red blue red blue red blue and oh a reflective yellow, _what a change_ , and for the briefest of moments he’ll think of that night, half a year ago, and how his phone glowed abuzz in the dark within his fingers while he typed out texts from his mobile, rosie gurgling adorable things on his lap.

 

he’ll think of every word he ever told her in the dark and contrast it with every word he told **_her_** in the past year and wonder if any of this mess was worth it in the end, in this moment — _for_ this moment. if the sum of this moment was worth any of whatever the hell had been reawakened in him.

 

in the cold, his fore and middle fingers will twitch. sherlock will notice, no doubt. he’s always noticed the details, he’s always been able to calculate, but _how could he have_ _forgotten to factor in this, this impossibility?_

 

[ ** _norbury norbury norbury norbury norbury norbury norbury norbury norbury_ ** ]

 

john, on the other hand.

 

john will not.

 

—

 

she’d made a mistake. he wasn’t so perfect. he wasn’t such a paragon.

 

 _god,_ **_mary_ ** _, you must know, i have something to tell you, i have something to confess, mary,_ mary, **mary** —

 

_“Mary, stay with me, stay with me.”_

 

**_but how does one tell the truth_ **

 

_“No, don’t worry, don’t worry.”_

 

**_in an instant_ **

 

_“Come on, Mary.”_

 

**_when lies_ **

 

_“Oh, God, John, I think this is it.”_

 

_“No, no, no, no, it’s not.”_

 

 ** _are_ ** **_all_ ** **_that hold_ **

 

_“I promise—”_

 

**_everything_ **

 

_“I promise.”_

 

**_together?_ **

 

—

 

he’d lied.

 

the nonexistent pulse beneath his fingers, however.

 

it cannot.


End file.
